Non Sequitur
by lapidary
Summary: They share bruises, cuts, headaches, schizophrenia, stomach pains, insanity, insomnia, and pseudo kisses. Defying all logic, opposing all RB angst. [crack, Bakura x Ryou shounen ai, or vice versa]
1. what it’s like, now

Yes, I remember the good old days when I was in love with Bakura-Beats-RyouANGSTtear fics. But now that I have inhaled more crack (and not necessarily literally) my viewed have expanded into the horizon AND BEYOND.

I wondered what would happen if the roles were switched. The more I write, the more it seems like it's writing itself. Ah, so screwed up.

WARNING: Bad metaphors, crud language, attempted humor. Well, it's humor if you don't take it seriously. I hold no responsibility if readers die of this pathetic-ness.

CHAPTER: Due to my inability to be coherent, there's an actual flashback.

ADVERTISEMENT: Gintama is an awesome, awesome manga. If VIZ wasn't such a bastard and liscenced it, I wouldn't have to go buy their crappy translations. Haven't seen anime so I can't say.

DISCLAMER: If I owned Yugioh, I would never ever let America have it and rob it of its virginity.

Non Sequitur 

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**  
I. what it's like, now**

-

_Hello, Mr. Johnson. Will you tell me what time it is today? _

_Yes, I will. Now, it is- _

"Hey, Ryou."

Oh great, _what now?_

He looked up from his English book as a body settled itself on his desk. His goddamn desk that he used to do homework, sleep, and eat lunch. A scent of overdosed cologne (although Ryou liked to think of it as moose shit; and besides, wasn't it banned?) -only the transfer student smelled like that. What was his name? Mi… mika? Um… no. Mimi? Well, Ryou wasn't sure but it was close, and it fit. Sort of.

Like with the rest of the student population, Ryou never bothered with him much. Although he was the heartthrob of an impressive number of girls, he was also kind of a sissy. And he was just like everyone else.

"Are you busy after school?" Mimika flashed a gorgeous smile that would have made any normal 16-year-old girl (and perhaps boy) redden.

Two girls in the corner started crying; their beloved crush was, obviously, gay. Six more girls were having nosebleeds, and 17 male students were feeling very jealous indeed. But no one was surprised, as if a guy hitting on Ryou was nothing new.

Which it wasn't.

Ryou, with immense effort, suppressed the urge to inflict something incredibly painful. He could feel his lips curving in anger into a wild grin.

Obviously, Mikamika misinterpreted his strained smile and was encouraged. "Well?"

Oh, right, a response.

What had Bakura always said?

_Don't flick shit out in the world, and the world won't regurgitate shit back at you_.

It was bad. It was crude. It made Bakura sound like a drunk and abusive parent. But it was one of the few morals they both agreed on.

"Not really." So he never lied to avoid situations.

Mimikami's smile widened, if possible, and leaned closer. His voice was practically a whisper. "Oh… then would you like to come over after school today?"

It was a bad show.

The lingering face drew nearer, and hell, even his lips were making Ryou feel quite threatened.

_Oh heeeeels no_.

"Because I need-"

Ryou heard enough, and he didn't particularly care. Besides, he had let the little scenario continue a little longer than necessary. Chair scraping the floor, Ryou snapped up and promptly kicked over his desk, Mimi-boy on top. The furniture hit the floor with a resounding crash.

He righted himself, pushed his silver hair out of his eyes and made a face. "I. Hate. People. Breathing. On. Me."

The students instantly erupted in laughter as Mikamimikamika cursed, attempting to stand up.

The door to the classroom slammed open as five people shoved their way past the cheering students.

"Excuse me, excuse me," the head student declared, "MERF VORB COMING THROUGH."

The Medical Emergency Rescue Team For Victims of Ryou Bakura crowded around Mimimika Mimi.

"Everything hurts," he complained as they checked his injuries.

"Hm… it looks like a twisted ankle, some fractured bones-oh, will you _shut up, _we've seen worse-a slight concussion, and a nasty bruise right there… and pay up."

"What? What do- hey, stop reaching in my pants!"

"Thank you for your business and-"

"My wallet! Don't stuff it in your fucking pocket!"

"-your welcome is appreciated."

Ignoring his protests, the noble MERF VORB pulled him up and dragged him away to the infirmary.

Another soul saved from the brink of death!

"I haven't given up on you yet, Ryou!"

"I love you!"

"I know the color of your closet!"

"KAWAII!"

Ryou made a mental note to request Bakura's traps around the house.

-

He ignored the giggles from a number of girls and squeezed himself into the already too tightly packed subway train. He also ignored the stares from the other, other gender. And the said stares weren't thrown at him only to admire his awesome Gintama book bag, either.

Normally, Ryou would have walked because there was hardly anything else in the world he hated more than public transportation.

Moments later, he felt "accidental" brushes against his ass.

And _that_ was why he avoided large crowds as best as he could. But alas, he was tired so he carried out the first step to Avoiding Further Molestation.

He turned his head and glared.

"Excuse me, but are you groping my ass?"

"Maybe."

"No!"

Blush.

"And what if I was?"

Five people stopped, and looked at each other, confused with _oh shit, I could have avoided this somehow_ expressions written on their faces.

Well, that was awkward.

-

Ten minutes later, Ryou walked fast-like out of the subway. He was thankful the compartment was small, and that his stop was the last. It was a lot of work, stuffing bodies under the seats.

"Hey, babe, looking for a fun job?"

-

He skipped away from the dumpster, wondering how long it would take for the garbage truck to make it's next round.

And he was sorry the bags weren't strong enough to hold objects 6 feet tall.

**I a. (what was in the beginning)**

Ever since the teacher's "class, Bakura Ryou" introduction, he could find no peace. It was only the first day, and he was already in trouble with the teachers.

Stop fighting with the students. What do you mean you haven't done anything? The bloodstains on your uniform proves it.

They pissed Ryou off, but he had long since learned to go along with teachers. How bothersome.

A tap on the shoulder, maybe a little too roughly. "Hey, that's _my _spot you're sitting in."

Won't they ever leave him alone? He turned to politely inform the other party to shut the fuck up. "What's your pro-" Ryou flinched backwards, but could not evade the red that splattered his cheeks. Oh, not "Again? What the hell!"

The other student held his hand up to his face, and stood transfixed at the liquid that he had wiped off. "Stop screwing with me!" The blood was positively streaming from his nose.

So it went like that for weeks and weeks. For fear of nosebleeds, no one could look at him in the eye. But he didn't mind; he rather preferred it.

-

He got it from the pawnshop, the ring. It looked shiny, lonely, and very capable of being used as a protective gadget against offending stalkers. One thing he wasn't expecting was the item glowing a warm, fuzzy light the minute he placed it around his neck. Nor was he expecting another presence to appear in his soul and take over his body.

The other spirit _would _have stuffed Ryou in the soul room and ran away to do evil deeds-such as world domination, voodoo, licensing manga -but that would have only happened if Ryou was a weenie (which he was anything but).

"Get out of me! Oh, but you're my host now. I'm your _what?_ I'm going to be sharing your body, heh."

(Of course it would sound very improper had there been a random passerby)

Ryou didn't specifically like the sound of that, so he shut the spirit up by using his expert shaman skills and running into a table.

"Are you" bam "-fucking-" bam "ouch-insane?" Fortunately, Bakura wasn't stupid enough to stay in someone's body if they were going to inflict self-pain and share the experience. After the spirit appeared in a separate solid body, Ryou wasted no time shoving him in the closet and locking it.

What the fuck is your problem? Bakura had grumbled from inside. Who the hell in the world puts a lock in their closet _with _metal bar support?

But Ryou knew his undergarments had a peculiar tendency to disappear. And he once saw his pair of "lost" boxers drying on the flat of some kid who was absent the day they were missing from his drawers.

Thus, the lock.

"Okay, so what are you doing here?"

"It's not like I wanted to be here, you bought the ring, didn't you? Ah, it must be fate. I can sense the pharaoh's presence very well from here. And I will proceed to steal his puzzle and shove it up his ass for all the agony he's caused me all these centuries. What year is it now anyway? 1949? A.D.? I guess I was pretty lucky to be stuck in a pawnshop; good stuff to pick up. By the way, if you haven't noticed, I'm a five thousand year old spirit who was locked away in the ring. And you're my reincarnation."

Double you tea eff?

"Looks like I'll be stuck with some sadistic table-ramming bastard. Not that I'm complaining much."

After two more hours of questioning and reassuring that Ryou was indeed not having hallucinations, Bakura was allowed to be let out, but only if he tied both hands behind his back (with duct tape) for the initial four months.

And then a lovely friendship blossomed.


	2. mutual through dialogue

Yay update. I had most of it written, but it's hard to break down the chapters. I want it to be moving faster, so I want to finish this first which has no real plot push. Dialogue talks.

DISCLAIMER: I love my tablet. For more on Ulquiorra love, I suggest checking out aRAUCANA's club émo fic. It's out. INDULGE.

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**  
II. mutual through dialogue**

-

Crying, sobbing, pleading. His head on the ground, the icy tiles sending shivers down his body. Each time he tried to struggle as each blow was landed upon him, his open wounds painted the white marble red.

Please stop. It hurts, it hurts, _it hurts_. He screamed to no one in particular. His cheeks felt hot, burned, raw.

But he was ignored completely because frankly, the other didn't give a damn.

Someone so beautiful deserves to be broken.

"You're _still _watching that drama?" Ryou felt Bakura standing behind him.

"Go away and stop bothering me."

"Are you crying?"

"No, really, my eyes are about to fall out from drowning. And my stomach hurts, too."

Bakura's face lit up like a seven-year-old presented with candy. "Finally, someone who agrees with me on this? I saw Yami bawling over it the last time he came over. It was absolutely hysterical."

"Oh please. The last time Yami and Yugi watched a drama, they couldn't come to school."

"Was that the time when they were absent for three weeks? I thought they were in the hospital because Yugi fell off a cliff or something."

"No, he _jumped off_. Yugi couldn't sleep for days because the girl's best friend's cousin cheated on her boyfriend's sister with her half-brother."

"Don't bring that up, my chest has spasms just thinking about it." Bakura leaned over the couch's backrest. "Ouch, that's kind of violent."

"Hm..."

"The character's problems are so stupid. He loves that guy, but beats him up?"

"Hey, I know, I know. That little snot makes me _sick_." Ryou gestured to the one on the ground. "He returns the feelings, but he can't say anything, so he gets abused. And he takes it, albeit pathetically. I just want to kick his ass."

"Not that he isn't already on the end of receiving excruciating pain. But the other guy's hot. Almost as hot as me."

"… Hot. You. Bakura. Those words shouldn't be together in the same sentence."

"You're just jealous."

"Jealous my ass. If you haven't noticed, we're practically identical."

"My hair's cooler (and more deadly) than yours. Some idiotic friends you have, never noticing the difference between us. For Ra's sake, my eyes are half the size of yours and definitely more evil looking."

"Squinty, you mean?"

"What was that, punk? Shut your-"

"Since when were your eyes red?"

Bakura scowled at the interruption. "To some of the fangirls, they are. And occasionally, they may even make it brown. Like yours," Bakura tilted Ryou's head and leaned over his face so he could examine his eyes, "Other times, they like to color it green. Blue's pretty popular, too. No, I think you're the one who gets blue more. It's too nice and fluffy. Oh yeah, and purple." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Has orange been used?"

"Are we going to go through every color of the rainbow? And ugh, no, only the blind ones would try to color my eyes orange."

"Artists are so fickle sometimes."

It was so out of place; Ryou wondered why he didn't notice it before. "Wait, what's _that_?"

"Hmph. And I thought out of all people, you'd recognize makizushi if you saw some. You're Japanese, aren't you?"

"Um, yeah, but that's not makizushi. That's a lump of rice with whole carrots, canned salmon, tomatoes, some... purple stuff, and celery on pieces of crudely chopped seaweed. And I'm also part French. Bonjour."

"… right. It doesn't look _too _bad does it?"

True. It may not have been makizushi, but the arrangement was pretty intriguing, and Bakura wouldn't poison him unless he wanted to kill them both.

"Bleh… how can something so colorful taste like burned shit." Ryou hurriedly bended over the sink. "You didn't even cook it!"

He smiled. "Hmm… I wonder."

Ryou walked back, feeling too nauseous from the 'cooking' to do anything besides collapsing on the couch and ignoring the other's iniquitous smile.

"Bakura," Ryou said to his pillow. "Get me the remote. I've had enough of their melodramatic problems and now I need some happy fluff crack."

Bakura frowned. "No 'please'?"

"Please, before my elbow buries itself in your ribs."

All it took was a little conversation.

Pretty soon, Ryou was sporting an unhealthy series of cuts on his face and arms, while a bruise decorated Bakura's left cheek.

"I swear to God, that if you try to lick my face again…" Ryou started as he surfed through the channels. "I'm going to-" he stopped himself. No physical threat really worked on Bakura, who noticed the obvious pause and snickered while the other boy sighed irritably. "Oh, shut up. It stings enough without you contaminating it."

"You have to admit, I'm better than any band-aid."

Shortly, Bakura was nursing two fresh new bruises on his right hip.

Sigh. "Why can't my darling hikari be submissive and weak so I can beat him up, go against all the rules of logic, and eventually, fall in love with him?"

"Not a chance."

A pause. "That's nice."

Genuinely puzzled, Ryou tilted his head. "What?"

"Your laugh. It's nice."

Ryou hadn't realized he did.

-

"Yugi!"

The shorter boy waved cheerfully, but stopped when he noted the worried face. "What's wrong?"

Jounouchi ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I'm not sure how to say this. But it's about Ryou."

Yugi feared the worst. For such an innocent kid, his mind was capable of many, many different scenarios that normal people would rather not dream of. Ryou was a strong kid, but against so many people he couldn't possibly...

"Well, um…"

He supposed he day _had had HAD _to come. But this was still-

"I think he's emo."

"…what?"

"I…I think there's something wrong with him. His face has bruises and cuts on it, and his hand has bandages on them. I don't think it's that serious, but it's obvious."

"Oh… but I saw it, too, and Ryou isn't exactly trying to cover it up, is he? And besides… who'd cut their face?"

"I thought it would be a _new _emo. You know… depressive public emo pride."

"…"

"Is there a difference?"

Yugi was still confused. "But he's not… funny."

"… are they suppose to be?"

"I guess. I mean, I thought the guy with the scorpion skeleton devouring his half his head was pretty funny."

"Ohhh, right. That Ulqui-something guy with a hole in his neck."

"Yeah, but still… I'm worried about Ryou."

-

"Why were you so late? I was waiting for you to make dinner."

"You _know _that I can't cook anything besides ramen without burning it. And ramen doesn't even have to be cooked."

"I was looking for an excuse to beat you up. I read it somewhere today."

"And I thought you would learn _valuable_ something from those B/R fics you read."

"You made me read, you mean. I can't understand why I'm always the uke."

"Tell me you're joking. It's canon, the most standard rule. You can't be the hikari and seme _at the same time_. That's just wrong. Plus, I'm taller than you, sexier than you, and …taller."

"Whatever. I think it's more dramatic than just saying, 'Bakura, come over here so I can vent out my angry feelings.'"

"Actually, that's pretty adorable. If you asked nicer, I might let you."

Neither noticed the door opening and closing, until an audible gasp was heard, resounding in the kitchen.

Ryou looked up. "Oh, hello, Yugi," he said calmly on top of Bakura, pausing the process of shoving the other's head onto the coffee table. "It's kind of late to come over, isn't it?"

"Late… indeed." Yugi shifted timidly. "What are you doing?"

Ryou tilted his head, wasn't it obvious?

"What do you think I'm doing?"

Because, you know, Yugi only saw what his eyes told him. Ryou. Sort of sitting on Bakura. The boy on the bottom was slightly suffocating, but Yugi did not know that.

"Ra-raving?"

God, this kid was blind.

But, of course, in reality, Yugi was much too polite to bluntly state, 'Well Ryou, it looks like you were in the process of raping yourse-I mean, Bakura.'

Much, much too polite.

Ryou wasn't sure where Yugi was going so he played along with a confident, "Um… okay."

"And um…y-you're right! It's getting late, and I probably should be going-BYE" Yugi smiled and sprinted towards the front door.

He ran down the street, shedding tears of joy and relief.

Hurrah! He cried out to the world. Ryou was not depressed, nor emo! He was not cutting himself with sharp pointy objects! He was not putting on eyeliner nor wearing tight cow-murdering leather and pseudo-metallic chains to express his agony!

He was merely sitting on himsel-he meant, Bakura.

Relieved, Yugi skipped home to tell Jou the good news.

Meanwhile, "what was that all about?"

"He probably thought you were doing XXX things with me."

"Ew." Ryou mocked disgust. "Making out with myself?"


	3. he was unpredictable

Thank you guys for the reviews :P

Yay the plot is moving. Just kidding, it has no plot, thanks to the title. FF changed since I came back. Now you can't even put percent signs, wtf?

DISCLAIMER: I have a headache.

**

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**

**III. he was unpredictable**

**-**

Ryou Bakura was not a happy person. He was raised to be a nice kid. It was a nice attempt, and he turned out to be fairly agreeable, if there wasn't anything to piss him off. As long as other people didn't bother him, then all was well and dandy. But if they did then… well, the MERF VORB would probably benefit more from it.

Besides, he couldn't just ignore the fact that he was prettier than the average (or above average) boy and (more times than often) girl because it wasn't like everyone else did. Sometimes, he was the envy of the female (and gay) population with his sleek, shiny, silver hair that needed no conditioning, and his pale, faultless skin. His strawberry cream scent was natural, and who could resist _that?_

Always, he would get tired of all the beauty tip questions directed at him, and would promptly yell for everyone to fuck off because he couldn't be bothered to take baths. If he was dirty, he ran through the rain. _Naked?_ everyone asked. But Ryou never told them. However, he did notice the large numbers of people roaming around ever since, even at the slightest hint of a drizzle.

Eighty percent of the school population answered 'yes' when the annual poll of "Do you possess an insatiable crush on Bakura Ryou?" was out last year. This year, the statistics rose to 95 percent. Oh heavens, he wasn't going to sit back and take the roaming hands, lips, feet, limbs, and other body parts as if some unseen force drew them to him (and later, the said body parts would usually become broken, battered, slashed, or mutilated in some way).

Ryou had never met anyone would could match up to him. He was a bit arrogant about it, but he could afford to be. It was what he needed for survival, damn, or at least, his virginity. Oh no, of course he wasn't a sex idol! How could one think that? He was just fluffy, cute, and very, very… lovable. Yes, a fluffy bunny who caused many injuries when handled incorrectly.

Then there is the remaining 5 percent of the people who either didn't bother him or just weren't interested in having some unnatural premature death. Yugi-tachi were the only people Ryou could stand, and perhaps, even like.

Jounouchi seemed to always be tripping over something. Or eating too much. Or both.

Honda's hair was funny. Like Ryou's, it was natural, and it shocked people (although the same could be said for Yugi). Like Bakura's, it could also be used as a lethal weapon.

Anzu was just there, but Ryou hasn't figured out what purpose quite yet, except for drawing smiley faces on people's hands.

Yugi was different from others because he could have certainly rivaled Ryou in cuteness. Besides having the face of an eight-year old, sometimes, he behaved like one, too.

But now, Ryou has a problem. A problem that he didn't expect would affect him so much. In fact, it bothered him. A lot.

Ryou had never strained himself to keep up with anyone. Then along came Bakura.

It was a fact that the other really had no special reason for the daily scuffles.

It wasn't envy, they looked alike. It wasn't lust, they looked alike. And it wasn't hatred; they could have cared less (and they looked alike).

And it was that spirit who could successfully piss him off 24/7, but somehow still manage to remain alive.

It was Bakura who had seen Ryou's capability of true terror.

It was Bakura whom Ryou kicked at night when he snored.

It was Bakura who had seen Ryou's bed-head in the mornings.

It was Bakura who knew Ryou had a secret weakness for green tea ice cream.

It was Bakura who knew Ryou did take baths.

It was Bakura, and no one else.

-

"Bakura?"

Some muffled sounds from downstairs were heard. "If you want to talk, get your ass down where I can hear you. Or shut up."

Ryou was a pro at filtering out Bakura's offending way of communication. It was necessary for both of them to continue existing.

He found Bakura on the couch, watching a random old animation about happy pandas and bunnies to save the flowers and trees from the evils of deforestation.

Ryou raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, it's not like anything good is on, okay? And you modern humans really suck, killing the poor trees and stuff." Bakura shook his head, frowning at the T.V.

As disturbing as Bakura's environmental-awareness was, Ryou ignored his comment, as he did many other times before.

"Why do you hurt me?"

Sure, it was and awkward question, but he didn't know how to phrase it otherwise. If Ryou were a normal boy, he would have said it in a whisper, voice quivering with an unsteady rattled breath. But Ryou was not, and so he said this with a firm lip, genuinely curious expression that hid nothing. And there was nothing to hide.

In turn, Bakura knew him too well to take him seriously. "You mean emotionally or mentally?"

"I mean, why do you hit me?"

He struggled with it; the bluntness actually made Bakura snigger. "God, Ryou, you're making this sound like I'm the big bad wolf who gobbles you up, instead of the injured party."

"Just answer the damn question."

If Ryou were a normal boy, Bakura wouldn't have replied, "Well, half the time, you start it first."

And by that, Bakura didn't mean that he beat the crap out of Ryou because he was fed up with the other's constant sniveling, crying, and angsting. By that, he meant,

"If your fist and foot connected less with vulnerable parts of my body, then maybe we wouldn't have this problem."

As if he was trying to pin the crime on someone else, which he was. But he had every reason to.

"Oh, so now it's my fault? I wouldn't have to do that if you stopped pissing me off every other sentence."

"Excuse me, but we both know I have more bruises than you. Thanks to your part in shoving me out the window."

"That wouldn't have happened if you had kept your hands off my special multi-colored Ham-chan pen." But the question wanted to be answered, and Ryou persisted. "Everyone else tries to get in my pants. But it's different from you."

If Ryou were a normal boy, then he would have been suffering an internal conflict as he said this. He would stutter and wonder if Bakura would take it the wrong way.

"How so?"

"Because you are me."

Bakura's eyes met Ryou's before he smirked.

"That is so clichéd." But it was true. "And it sounded so corny." It did.

"Shut up."

"Will do." He turned back to the television.

Ryou almost sighed, but he stopped himself. Instead, he walked away, not sure if he was content with such an answer.

"Ah, yes, I forgot."

Rolling his eyes, Ryou glanced over his shoulder, waiting, but Bakura made no move to turn around and face him.

"You look cuter when you're angry."

If Ryou Bakura were a normal boy, he would have blushed as Bakura said that. His cheeks would have reddened, and he would have replied with a sickeningly-cute-but-effective, _n-na-nani?_

But of course, if Ryou weren't normal, then he wouldn't have been able to entertain a crapload of girls by marching over and shoving Bakura's head into the fish tank in one swipe

But the doused one was good at holding his breath. One had to be, if living with Ryou.

Venomously, "Is that all you have to say?"

Bakura shrugged, as if his hair smelling like fish rot meant nothing to him. Maybe it didn't, because like Ryou's strawberry cream scent ability, Bakura had his magikkal spicy tangerine aroma. "Yeah, I guess."

"Whatever."

If Ryou were a normal boy, then he would have realized that his big ego was getting in the way of possible more-than-friendship feelings for the other boy. But that would have been so angsty and sad for such a happy fanfiction, and he was Ryou, the badass, so he let it go.

All the fish in the aquarium died the next day.


	4. it came like a dream

It _is _kind of weird, isn't it, for Bakura to have his own body? But like the 839487 fics out there with Bakura running around doing whatever he pleases, I figured I like it that way better. (And Bakura trapped in Ryou's body, although humorous at times, is kind of depressing).

Suggestions, comments, thoughtful flames appreciated.

WARNING: Please don't shoot me. The idea was hysterical at one time.

DISCLAIMER: Oh no, final exams are starting!

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**interlude. it came like a dream**

-

The first thing he noticed when he turned on the light were those eyes.

_Chocolate_, he thought, as he peered into them. _Delicious_.

The owner of those eyes, the boy stood opposite of him, gazed back with soft, wide innocence.

The tips of his lips arched into a smile smile, forbidden to be seen by anyone but him.

It was returned instantly with the same gentleness.

He drew closer, breath relaxed.

He examined the other boy closely, who remained motionless. He reached for him, then.

Hands touched. Palm to palm, finger to finger, skin to skin.

They had so much in common.

He leaned forward; the boy imitated the action as well.

Quietly, slowly, until finally, their lips melted into one.

Maybe unexpectedly, it felt smooth, cruel, and damn, it forced his neck into an awkward angle.

He inhaled sharply at the soreness. The smell of ammonia stung his nose.

They immediately pulled back at the same time, neither liking what they had shared.

He brushed his fingers against his lips; they were still cold.

So that was what kissing his doppelganger felt like.

It tasted like Windex.

Ryou heard that crystalline laughter from the doorway then. He didn't need to bother with a glance; he knew who it was.

Bakura smiled a little, not unlike the one given moments before, _What are you doing?_

Although the tone was kind, it was wrong, uncharacteristic.It did not fit him. Ryou knew he would have liked to add something insulting to the end of the question.

And so, they started again, _What are you doing, idiot? Looking at yourself. In the damn mirror. Doing what, exactly? Kissing. The damn mirror. Don't you know what real kisses are?_

His flesh and blood copy reached for his face, gently, arms stretching for him, pulling him closer. Those cold fingers (a different chill than before) across his own lips, before those lips replaced those fingers and, he felt it, how it seemed like he was kissing the air. There was no taste. No warmth, no bitterness, nothing.

But still, they stood there, not moving, nor flinching. Just standing without any words to explain nothing.

At first glance, they could have been brothers, but they were not.

At second glance, they could have been lovers, but it was far from it.

-

The first thing he noticed when he turned on the light was that somehow, he had migrated to the edge of Bakura's side of the bed.

Tangled in sheets, Bakura himself, it seemed, was mysteriously facedown on the floor.

"I'm not going to live much longer if you continue to do this to me in your sleep, Ryou."


End file.
